


Yesterday's Tomorrow

by prettylikeahurricane (LetsGankIt)



Category: Dominion (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Time Travel, M/M, Time Travel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-11-12
Updated: 2014-11-15
Packaged: 2018-02-25 03:46:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,610
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2607284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LetsGankIt/pseuds/prettylikeahurricane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year is 2056. People live in fear, a dictator controls the planet, and with Michael's unwilling help Gabriel may decimate the population with a piece of technology that will kill even the strongest of rebellions. So Michael runs....to 2026.</p><p>He lands in Alex's shower - while Alex is still in it - and together, with a bit of luck, they just might save tomorrow.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Down the Drain

**Author's Note:**

> Yesterday's Tomorrow will update twice every month. Once on the 15th and once on the 30th. Tags may be added as the story progresses so please keep an eye there, but I will also warn readers before the chapter in which the tag applies. Have fun and enjoy the read!

A ray of violet exploded next to Michael’s face and the wall flew at him in little pieces. He raised his arms for protection but felt the sting of plaster and wood as it smacked him beneath his right eye. A trickle of blood rolled down his cheek and he caught a few bright droplets on his hand. Gabriel shouted, “Don’t shoot! You risk the technology!”

The footsteps of the guard pounded behind him, hard soles slapping the tiled floor. His own feet were almost inaudible over the roaring thunder of feet behind him and the screaming of lasers as they fired at will. “I said don’t shoot!”

Michael took a sharp turn to the left, momentum making him slide across the floor before his feet caught traction and he was back to breezing down the hallway. Beside him, windows blurred and he was left to only imagine the looks of surprise and confusion that would be on people’s faces as first he and then the majority of the guard raced down the halls. Sweat beaded on his forehead and made his hands clammy. It made the metal contraption in his hand slick and wet and hard to hold onto. He felt gravity pull it downward and for a heart stopping second he thought he was going to drop it but his grip only tightened. Michael took another sharp turn and the white doors loomed before him. The shiny metal handles reaching out and begging to be grasped. It felt like reaching a finish line, like he should throw his hands up in victory. But there was no time to celebrate his success. He closed and locked the doors behind him and then shoved a heavy table in front of it. A guard slammed into the door, shoulder first, and the table jumped. Michael worried that they would break in at any minute and all his running would be for nothing. Amazingly, it held.

White walls made the room seem much larger than it actually was. Tables lined the walls covered with an assortment of microscopes and beakers and beneath them glass door cabinets contained more of the same. Next to the back wall, in the left corner, was a machine that rose up like an abstract sculpture, an ugly piece of modern art. All dark metal and twisted wires, a circular appendage sat on the top and just to the side was a keyboard with no screen. Michael walked over, brushing his fingers across the keys before quickly typing in a set of numbers. The machine whirred to life.

Behind him the continued sounds of someone or something being thrown against the door was a constant reminder of the ticking clock. Metal groaned as the doors began to buckle inwards and Michael willed the machine to go faster. Blue fire blazed on the sphere, opening a rip in time and space so that Michael could see into the universe. It sounded mystical and fantastic but the reality was that the universe was dark and terrifying, sparking with power, and Michael was reluctant to go inside. A click echoed in the space as the lock snapped and the table was shoved several feet forward. Michael turned and locked eyes with Gabriel who bellowed, “Stop him!”

Michael pushed off the ground with his back foot and leapt forward, reaching towards the wormhole with both hands. A hand brushed his ankle but the universe was holding him tight and he went tumbling forward with only fear of the unknown as his companion.

**DOMINION**

Metallica’s heavy metal beat and grinding vocals pulled Alex from a deep sleep. He blinked weary eyes and took in the glowing green numbers floating over his end table. Six thirty in the morning was feeling earlier and earlier each day. He pulled back the comforters, missing their warmth before he’d even left his bed, and pulled himself to his feet, padding across the cold hardwood floor. It was getting cool as November dragged on and Alex regretted not sleeping in more than a thin pair of lounge pants. The faucet squeaked as he turned it on, cupping both hands under to splash warm water on his face. He wet his toothbrush down and applied the recommended pea sized dollop of toothpaste. As he brushed, he eyed the shower and weighed his need for cleanliness against a fear of being both wet and cold. On cue, a draft breezed into the bathroom bringing goose bumps to his skin. Alex spit out the toothpaste and decided that waiting was the best option. Cleanliness, it seemed, could wait until later.

He walked over to his dresser, stopping for a moment to pull on socks. He then proceeded to open his closet and pull out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He went through three pairs of jeans before he found some that weren’t ripped at the knee. Unfortunately, that left him with only his grease stained pair that hadn’t been truly clean in ages. Alex supposed something was better than nothing and pulled them on.

Alex took little pleasure in his morning routine. No matter how hard he tried, he was always a walking disaster and no amount of coffee seemed to make a difference. He hit the button to brew and meandered to the back room where the dusty old treadmill sat waiting. It whined as he ran, clanking with each step, and Alex was more than ready for the end of that by the time he got off. He ran for the thirty minutes which gave him just enough time to fill his travel mug with coffee before the pot turned off. His stomach growled so he opened the fridge. The contents or lack thereof, made him frown. “Need to go grocery shopping.”

The idea didn’t exactly thrill him.

He managed to scrounge up a banana, peeled it, and ate it on his way out to his car. It was a rusty, military green Jeep with a faulty transmission and a penchant for making sounds that cars should never make. As a mechanic, Alex had always dreamed of owning a real car – a great car. Until money fell from the sky, however, he was stuck with this hunk of junk. Fifteen minutes of driving and he pulled into the parking lot of Mack Motor Maintenance and shut off the engine. The locks were broken in the Jeep so Alex had to manually press them down and then he walked into work.

Ethan was already there, a true entrepreneur getting his full day’s work in to get the job done. He was bent over into the hood of an aging Pinto, humming show tunes off-key. “Boss.”

“Alex,” Ethan said. He straightened up and then stretched and twisted. Alex could hear the sounds of his joints popping from across the garage. “That can’t be healthy.”

“I seriously doubt it,” Alex replied.

Ethan shrugged. “You clock in yet?”

“Nope,” Alex said. “I was on my way to do that and then I saw that dashingly delicious ass of yours bent over the Pinto.”

Ethan grinned. “You’re a dick. Go clock in.”

Alex smiled and left Ethan alone in the garage. The office was a slight disaster. Alex was careful not to mess with the disorganized order that Ethan perpetually kept them in. Despite what Alex saw, Ethan persisted in claiming that there was a system to the mess. Alex would have laid good money down on that being a load of horse shit but just in case it wasn’t, Alex maintained his distance. He found his card, one of only four including Ethan’s, and punched in his time. Then he walked back out into the garage.

“So, what’d you do this weekend?” Ethan asked. Alex started to answer but Ethan was back to talking before he could even form the words. “Nothing, I would imagine. That’s what you usually do over the weekends, anyways.”

Alex found himself rolling his eyes as he grabbed the clipboard next to a shiny new baby blue Buick. His eyes scanned the paperwork which listed a noise like a vibration. “I hung out with my girl, played some video games, ordered pizza-“

“Your girl,” Ethan said, and then followed it up with a snort. “I would be infinitely more impressed if your girl wasn’t under twelve.”

“You treat it like it’s a bad thing,” Alex said. “She’s a good kid, sweet, you know? And she needs someone to take her under their wing.”

“Look, I don’t have anything against your friendship with Bixby. You’re right. She’s cute and stuff and I like her too – but I’m talking about you finding a real girl.” Ethan shrugged. “Or guy, I know you’re not picky.”

The term was bisexual, Alex thought. But he refrained from pushing the issue. “I’m just… not ready for a relationship. Not so soon after Claire.”

“So soon – it’s been six months, Alex!” Ethan exclaimed. He wiped his greasy hands against his jeans and then stalked across the garage to where Alex had just popped the hood and was looking into the insides of the Buick. “You weren’t married to the woman. Hell, you weren’t even engaged!”

“We were serious,” Alex argued.

“You were comfortable,” Ethan pressed.

Alex put up his hand. “I’m not going to argue over my past relationships with you.”

“Then just admit I’m right and we’ll move on,” Ethan said. Alex felt Ethan’s hand on his shoulder and he resisted the urge to push it off just to spite the other man. “I don’t like to see you moping after some chick six months after she broke it off.”

“I’m not moping,” Alex said petulantly.

“Sure you aren’t. Just… would you consider letting me set you up with one of the girls I knew from college?” Ethan asked.

“No,” Alex answered.

Ethan sighed. “Come on. She’s pretty, she’s smart, she’s into guys who are into cars…”

“I said no, Ethan,” Alex said.

“I’m not trying to push a relationship onto you-“

Alex scoffed. “That’s exactly what you’re trying to do.”

“But you’re happier when you’re with someone.”

Alex cut his eyes to Ethan. “You’re not in a relationship. Should I call my old college buddies and set them up with you?”

Ethan held up two fingers. “One, even you admit you went to college with a bunch of assholes and two, your college buddies wouldn’t know comfortable homosexuality if it groped them in a gay bar.”

Alex couldn’t argue on that point.

“Besides, I don’t need a relationship to make me happy. I mean, yeah I’m single but I still go out and do things, I still get laid-“ Ethan started.

“More information than I needed,” Alex muttered.

Ethan looked to Alex. “You just…I don’t like seeing a friend in pain.”

“I’m not in pain, Ethan. I’m just…” Alex trailed off. He didn’t know what he was, but he didn’t think it was in pain.

Ethan’s hand slid from Alex’s shoulder and he walked back over to his own car. “I won’t keep pushing.”

“So you admit you were pushing?” Alex asked.

Ethan scowled. “Can it, Lannon.”

“Yes, sir,” Alex said, wearing a cheeky grin as he leaned over into the car.

“Consider it? Please? For me?” Ethan asked.

“I’ll consider it,” Alex agreed, but he knew he wouldn’t.

**DOMINION**

Alex came home feeling dirty and greasy which was right on point considering he was covered in both grease and dirt. He stepped into the lobby of his apartment building and immediately found the elevator out of commission. He sighed, because that was just his kind of luck, and climbed the three flights of stairs up to his apartment. The hall was empty. Cheap red carpet lined the floors and the walls were painted in a boring off-white color. The walls had always been that color which made Alex wonder if the paint had been bought in that not-quite-white shade or it the decades before Alex had arrived had aged it to that color.

He dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out his keys. As he stuck them in the door, the next door neighbor’s opened theirs up. Bixby stood in the doorway. “Hello, Alex.”

“Hello, Bixby,” he said. “How are you today?”

“School was boring, home is boring, but you are not boring. Do you have time to play today?” she asked.

Alex considered but remembered that he was still the owner of a very empty refrigerator and grocery shopping didn’t get done on its own. “Sorry, I have some shopping to get done. Maybe some other time?”

He hated to see the look of disappointment on her face. “Yeah, okay. See you then, Alex.”

“Bye, Bixby,” he said.

She shut the door and the hallway was silent once more. He sighed. His keys jangled in the lock as he twisted it open and he stepped inside his humble abode with a relieved sigh. He pushed the door closed, realizing too late that his hand was still covered in grease and he’d put a black handprint on the white paint of the door. A shower, then.

Alex dropped his things in the living room and then made his way to the bathroom after kicking off his shoes. He shut the door behind him and began stripping of his clothes, dropping first his shirt in the corner of the bathroom and then pulling off his jeans to drop them in the corner too. He toed off his socks which also joined the little pile and then standing bare on the rug, he turned on the water. With the air as cold as it was, unsurprisingly he turned it just below scalding. He waited patiently for the water to heat up and then when the steam turned the room hazy and gray, he stepped beneath the spray. He groaned involuntarily as hot water melted tension from his muscles. Alex rolled his head around, cracking his neck in the process. It was slightly painful, but just on this side of pleasurable – and all in all it made him feel infinitely better. He bent over to grab the shampoo and caught a flash of blue out of the corner of his eye. He turned and came face to chest with the muscular man standing behind him.

Alex prided himself on the fact that he didn’t scream.

He did, however, stumble backwards over the edge of the tub. His foot got caught in the tail of the shower curtain and a loud ripping noise could be heard as said curtain was yanked from the rings holding it to the rail. Both Alex and the shower curtain came tumbling down, falling to the floor in a rather ungraceful way. Only the thin, plushy bathroom rug softened Alex’s blow and he groaned in pain with his landing. He was quickly in a sitting position, staring up at the man standing in his shower, and then crab walked across the floor to the door. Abruptly, he realized he was naked and covered himself with the shower curtain as best he could. “Who are you?”

“My name is Michael, and you are?” he asked.

Alex sat rather dumbfounded. The man was tall, taller than Alex and Alex was not some midget to begin with. He was muscular if the definition in his chest was anything to go by and attractive if not in a typical model-like way. He had large eyes, almost dark enough to be confused as a large pupil instead of a brown iris. The water ran over him in rivulets down his face and onto his chest. The shirt, a black tee simple in style, clung to every inch of his skin and Alex – despite his better judgment – found himself wondering what all that muscle would feel like under his hands. The words were on his lips before he could think to stop them. “Alex. Alex Lannon.”

“Pleasure,” Michael said calmly. He turned to the shower head and said, “Shower off.”

Predictably, the shower remained on.

“What are you doing here?” Alex asked. “Why are you in my apartment?”

“I fear that my explanation will sound insane at best,” Michael said. “Could we perhaps take a seat in your lounging space?”

“How did you get in?” Alex asked.

Michael took a breath as an expression of irritation crossed his face. “As I said, I think this is a conversation to be best had in a calm manner, preferably seated and in your case clothed-“

“I want to know how you got into my apartment!” Alex yelled.

Michael was silent, the sound of running water the only noise filling the space. Michael spoke softly. “May I have a towel?”

Alex ground his teeth together, stood, and bolted from the room. He held the shower curtain tight around his waist. Although naked and unhindered he might have moved faster, Alex figured that if the man decided to kill him he’d rather have some dignity. Whatever dignity one could scrape up with they were being chased around their house while wrapped in a shower curtain, but it was more dignity than if he were to be bare as the day he was born.

The phone was in the kitchen and Alex got his hands on it and dialed the first two numbers of 911 when it was snatched out of his hands by the madman himself. “I do not think it wise to bring authorities into this matter. That is who you were calling, no?”

Alex took a step back, wet feet slapping loudly against the tiled floor of the kitchen. “Leave me alone.”

“I’m not here to hurt you.”

Alex reached behind him, fingers grasping around the handle of a knife. He held it in front of him and took in the fact that it was not, indeed, a knife but a spatula. Alex tried not to feel disappointed. It wasn’t hard to cover up that particular emotion with all the fear coursing through his veins. “What are you here for?”

“This is simply where I landed,” Michael said. He cocked his head as he assessed Alex. “I really think this conversation is best had sitting down.”

“Just start talking,” Alex said.

Michael said. “My name is Michael Angelo. I am a scientist who works on biochemical engineering. I am here because I time traveled from the year 2056 in order to keep this piece of technology-“ He held up a small device no bigger than a pop can. “-out of the wrong hands. Gabriel’s hands.”

Alex gaped. “Oh my God. You’re insane.”

Michael’s face creased in annoyance. “No. My story is completely true. No fabrication.”

Alex shrugged. “That’s what a crazy person would say, right?”

Michael was suddenly before him, moving with a speed that Alex thought a scientist shouldn’t have. Alex reacted blindly, whacking the man’s arm with the spatula and trying to twist away. Michael had a tight grip on Alex’s arm, however, and the younger man went absolutely nowhere. “Let me prove it to you.”

Alex swallowed heavily. “Okay. Yeah. Sure.”

Michael led him, rather gently Alex supposed, to the living room. Alex took a seat on the couch, still covering himself with the plastic of the shower curtain, and Michael stood in the middle of the floor. Around him, the tan carpet turned into a darker shade of brown. The water continued to pool coming off Michael and Alex found himself slightly annoyed by that fact when you could see light glistening off the puddle being made. “I’m not going to get my security deposit back, am I?”

“How shall I prove to you my story?” Michael asked, either ignoring Alex’s comment, not understanding it, or not hearing it at all.

Alex shrugged. “I don’t know, man. Tell me something that’s going to happen.”

“What year is it?” Michael asked.

“Twenty twenty-six,” Alex replied.

Michael’s eyes widened. “Only thirty years back? What progress we’ve made.”

“Proof?” Alex reminded him.

Michael closed his eyes. “Your next president is going to be a Hispanic man. He will come out as gay two years after leaving office. This will be news to his wife and children. The Lions make it to the Superbowl in twenty thirty-seven…no, twenty thirty-eight. Marijuana becomes legal in-“

“How do I know any of this is true?” Alex asked.

“It is true,” Michael said.

“So you say. But I don’t know any of this, and I won’t know it until it happens,” Alex said. “And no offense, but I’m not sitting on my couch until the Lions win the Superbowl.”

“I see the dilemma,” Michael said. His lips pursed as he thought.

“May I?” Alex asked, reaching towards an end table.

Michael sighed. “I told you, I am not here to hurt you.”

“You also pulled the phone out of my hands when I was calling for help so forgive me if I’m not feeling particularly trusting,” Alex snapped. He grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. “It’s Monday. Monday night football.”

“You wish to watch television?” Michael asked, surprised.

Alex rolled his eyes again. “No, genius, I’m looking for a game. If you are who you say you are – and not some freak making stuff up – you’ll be able to tell me who wins the game before it’s over.”

“I’m from the future, Alex. I’m not psychic,” Michael said.

“There’s a difference?” Alex asked.

Michael sighed. Alex was beginning to think that was a habit for the other man. “You’re asking me to remember the score of some game that took place thirty years ago. I don’t have all the knowledge in the world.”

“Well, if you’ve got a better idea…” Alex trailed off.

Michael’s eyes lit up. “One moment.” He dug into his pocket and Alex watched as he pulled out something that looked remarkably cell phone like. A little smaller than the average bear and a little sleeker but cell phone like just the same. “Yes, it still has service.”

Alex looked skeptical. “Thirty years in the past?”

“Technology is light years ahead of what you imagine,” Michael said. He looked up. “Have you chosen the game?”

Alex motioned towards the TV with the remote. “Do you need today’s date?”

“No,” Michael said.

“So you just, what, knew?” Alex asked. Michael tapped the corner of the TV where the date was printed clearly. Alex blushed. “Oh.”

Michael rattled off the numbers. Twenty-eight to twenty-two. Alex looked skeptically at the TV. “Is that your final answer?”

“What?” Michael asked, clearly confused.

Alex sighed. “It’s a reference…never mind. Did you look at the current score? There’s no way there’s enough time for them to turn this around.”

And then ten minutes later, things started to take a turn.

Michael didn’t move from his puddle on the floor but Alex edged closer and closer to the edge of his seat as the game went on. He was tense, primed and ready for either outcome when there was a knock on the door. Without thinking, Alex stood and met the person. “Hello?”

“Alex! Hey! I just thought I’d stop over and…why are you wearing a shower curtain?” Ethan asked.

Alex looked down and blushed. “Oh. I…I forgot.”

“You forgot you were wearing a shower curtain?” Ethan asked.

“Jesus. I’m sorry. If you’ll give me a moment, I can change-“

Ethan was already long past the curtain and onto the drenched man standing in Alex’s living room. “And who is that, Alex?”

“That’s…Michael,” Alex said lamely. “He’s…Michael.”

“He’s wet,” Ethan said. The man’s eyes were eating up Alex’s guest who – despite his insanity – Alex was feeling suddenly strangely protective about.

Alex grumbled. “Eyes in your sockets, Ethan.”

Ethan fanned himself. “I think I’m sweating.”

“What are you doing here, Ethan?” Alex asked.

Ethan pried his eyes from Michael and turned to Alex, holding up the case of beer. “Figured you could use some time with someone over twelve but, wow, but clearly my concern was unwarranted.”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, trying to understand what Ethan was conveying. And then it all hit him like a ton of bricks. “You think….you think we’re….we’re not….Ethan!”

Ethan’s mouth spread into a wide smile. “I’m proud of you.”

“It’s not like that,” Alex defended.

“I’m going to take my alcohol and go get drunk alone. You two have fun,” Ethan said. He winked at Michael and then returned back down the all.

Alex shut the door, shame burning on his face.

“Your friend seems….nice,” Michael said.

Alex met Michael’s eyes and sent a silent prayer that the two of them could both just forget this ever happened. “He’s something alright.”

Alex’s eyes fell back on the TV just as the quarterback took the ball and, with no one to throw it to, began racing down the field. A daring parry gave him an extra ten yards…fifteen yards….twenty…. he raced down the field farther and farther. Touchdown!

Alex’s eyes flicked to the score as it turned. Twenty-eight to twenty-two. The game ended, Alex dropped onto the couch.

Michael took a step over to Alex, his feet sloshing on the carpet. “Do you believe me now?”

****  



	2. Back in Time

Alex dressed quickly, pulling a long sleeve black shirt over his chest and a pair of jeans without bothering to grab boxers. He turned up the heat, figuring he could screw money now that everything he thought he knew was wrong. Time travel was real….what was next, aliens?

“I’m sorry to have dumped all of this on you, Alex Lannon,” Michael said.

Alex threw him a towel. “It’s just Alex.”

“Alex,” Michael corrected. He caught the towel and began toweling off his hair. “I hate to ask-“

“But you will anyways.”

Michael gave him a look. “I’m unfamiliar with your time. I come from a place where technology, medicine, science… it’s so much more advanced than now.”

“Rub it in,” Alex grumbled.

“I need help,” Michael said. He wore a pained expression as if it was a physical difficulty for him to say such a thing.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do for you Michael. I’m no one special. I’m just some guy in Nevada that works at a mechanics shop,” Alex said.

“Surely there’s something you can do.”

“I’ll try,” Alex said, caving. “So…”

“So?” Michael asked.

Alex took a seat on the couch next to Michael, pulling his leg up onto the cushion and letting the other dangle off the edge. “So, are you going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?” Michael asked, cocking his head to the side in confusion.

“Why you travelled back in time,” Alex said.

Michael held the towel in his hand, bunching it up in his lap as he looked anywhere but Alex. “It’s a long story.”

“I’ve got time.”

Michael pursed his lips.

**DOMINION**

Michael would have found it easier to work if guards didn’t stand at the door touting guns. There were ten of them which seemed heavy overkill if there ever was. They were dressed in black tactical gear with pistols on their thighs and lasers in their hands. When he’d walked past one he could see that they’d set them to stun, which wasn’t as reassuring as it should be. Michael bent over the table and tried not to think about the amount of weapons in the room. Nor did he think about the fact that the technology he was working on was more powerful than all those weapons combined. Uriel softly grabbed his arm. “Almost done?”

“Unfortunately,” Michael replied.

“What do you need?” Uriel asked.

Michael cut his eyes to her face. “I need less guns in the room.”

“Michael-“

“You know how I feel about weapons,” Michael said.

“It’s not as if I don’t agree with you, but thinking that those men are,” Uriel paused and turned a heated gaze towards the guards at the door. She raised her voice. “That those men are barbarians! It doesn’t help us and it doesn’t get us out of here any faster. The only thing that is going to set us free is if we finish this…”

“Weapon?” Michael finished for her.

She closed her eyes briefly. “I was going to say technology.”

“Might as well just call it what it is, Uriel,” he said. “It’s a weapon, a weapon of mass destruction. People will burn for this. And then we will burn for this.”

Her eyes flashed open again and she twisted away. “Don’t be so melodramatic. It’s not like we have a choice.”

“There is always a choice,” Michael said.

The doors were flung open, banging loudly on the walls. Uriel jumped and her elbow bumped the technology on the table. Only Michael’s fast reflexes kept her from knocking it to the floor and potentially killing them all in the process. He braced himself against the table and forced himself to take several calming breaths. It was hard when he could hear Gabriel’s booted feet scuffling across the floor with each heavy step. “Michael, or should I call you doctor?”

“Michael is fine,” he said, his teeth bared with the words. He stood and faced the man and they came nose to nose.

“Splendid,” Gabriel said. He abruptly turned away and stalked between the tables.

Michael watched as Gabriel’s fingers dragged along the table top and then he looked at the pads of his fingers as if inspecting for dust. Michael almost growled. “Can we help you?”

“I’m here to check up on your progress. Is there a problem?” Gabriel asked.

Michael wanted very badly to say that indeed, he had a problem and that problem was Gabriel and his jack booted thugs by the door. He didn’t say that, holding onto some ounce of self-preservation he still had left in him. “No.”

Gabriel smiled warmly. “Good to hear.”

“There are too many guards,” Michael said, and there went his self-preservation. “It makes it hard to do our work.”

“Too many guards?” Gabriel asked. Michael nodded. “Do they get in your way?”

“I wouldn’t be saying anything if they didn’t,” Michael replied.

Gabriel conceded that point with a slight nod. “I’m sorry to hear that. They are rather cumbersome, aren’t they?”

“Barbarians,” Michael muttered. Uriel’s heel came down sharply on his foot.

“You’ll understand, however, that I can’t remove them from this room,” Gabriel said.

Michael could hear the way his teeth ground together. “Why not?”

“Why, for your protection of course,” Gabriel said. “I would hate for someone to come in and try to steal this weapon. Those rebels are nasty and they expect casualties of war.”

“The rebels are better than you, Gabriel,” Michael said low. Uriel sucked in a breath beside him.

Gabriel turned, the smile still on his face but somehow having lost its warmth – it seemed fake, cold. “What did you say?”

“I said that the rebels are better than you. They are stronger, faster, fiercer-“

Michael was abruptly cut off when Gabriel pulled the gun from his side and jammed it under Michael’s jaw. He drove it upwards, causing Michael to arch his neck and crane his head back. He braced his arms against the table to keep from falling over or stumbling back. Gabriel bared his teeth. “You were saying?”

Michael’s eyes dropped to meet Gabriel’s and he said, “Kill me.”

“Don’t try me,” Gabriel warned.

“Kill me!” Michael yelled. He pushed off of the table, shoving the gun farther into the fleshy part of his jaw. “Kill me!”

“I’ll do it, Michael,” Gabriel said.

Michael kept pushing, that ounce of self-preservation long gone. “Then do it. If it spares the lives of everyone that weapon will kill than my life will have been worth it. And maybe, with luck, my death will result in yours.”

Gabriel pushed the gun in further and Michael couldn’t stop himself from cringing at the pain. Gabe cocked the gun. He looked at Uriel. “Can you build it?”

“What?” she asked. Her voice shook.

He used his free hand to point to the weapon on Michael’s table. “Can you build it?”

“No,” she said quietly. “I need his help.”

Gabriel’s eyes flicked back to Michael’s face and, despite the situation, Michael felt a grin grow there. Gabriel glared daggers at the other man and then suddenly stepped back. Michael’s head snapped back into place and he reached a hand up to massage his sore neck. Gabriel pointed his gun at Uriel. “You have twenty four hours, Michael. You finish the weapon or I come here and I kill the blonde.”

Uriel gasped.

Michael took a step forward and Gabriel fired off a warning shot. Michael froze, he turned to the smoking hole in the table. “You could have hit something. Killed us all!”

“I’m not messing around anymore,” Gabriel said. “Twenty four hours.”

Gabriel spun on his heel and stalked out of the room. The doors slammed into the wall, but Michael thought that had more to do with anger than dramatic flair this time.

Uriel put her hand on Michael’s arm. “Are you okay?”

Michael reached up and felt the bruise growing under his chin. “I’m fine. Nothing permanent.”

“You won’t let him kill me, will you Michael?” Uriel asked.

Michael cupped her face in his hand. “I will do the right thing.”

Rightly so, Uriel was not put at ease.

Several hours later, Michael dragged his forearm over his forehead and wiped the sweat from his face. He wasn’t sure if it was intentional but the room seemed to be kept just a few degrees to warm. Michael was sure there was a psychological reason behind keeping the room this way and it irked him more than he could say. There was a knock at the door and Michael’s eyes rose to look at the clock. Furiad opened the door. “Lunch time!”

Uriel put her hand up to stop Furiad from coming any closer. “We don’t need lunch today.”

“I need lunch,” Michael said as he put his tools down.

Uriel glowered at the clock. “We don’t have much time left, Michael.”

“We have time for lunch,” he replied.

Furiad motioned to the woman to put the trays of food down. Furiad was the head of Gabriel’s guard and, Michael well knew, a man of lusty desires and a bloodlust to match. He snorted when Michael shoved Uriel’s hand from his shoulder. “Trouble in paradise?”

“Just leave the food and go, Furiad,” Michael snapped.

The other man’s eyebrows rose on his forehead. “Oh, so there is some trouble brewing between the two of you. And here I thought the two of you were closer than siblings – isn’t that what you told me? Of course, I’ve always had my suspicions that closer than siblings meant the two of you were doing the horizontal-“

Michael lunged forward causing the guard to step back and grip the laser in his hands with a tighter hand. His finger flicked the laser from stun to kill and the whole room froze. Furiad chuckled but it was a nervous chuckle, like he knew he’d just taken things too far. “Careful, Michael. Wouldn’t want anyone to get hurt, would you?”

“You’re not going to kill me, Furiad,” Michael said. “Gabriel would be furious, and then you’d follow me right into the same grave.”

“Might be worth it,” he said.

Uriel spoke softly. “Furiad, please…”

Silence filled the room. Suddenly, Furiad flicked the switch back to stun and turned and walked away. “Better get back to work soon, Michael. Everyone knows you’re on a countdown now. No more games.”

Michael bit his tongue to keep silent.

“Why do you insist on provoking him?” Uriel asked.

Michael angrily ripped into the food before him. “Because I am tired of cowering every time he waves that gun of his around.”

“You have never cowered,” Uriel said, a sour expression twisting her lips. “If you had, perhaps this whole engagement would have been far less painful all around.”

Uriel took her seat across from him. Michael noticed the way she refused to meet his eyes. “What?”

“You’re not working on the weapon,” Uriel whispered.

Michael tensed, looked around, and found the whole of the guard standing next to the door. Their guard was dropped while the rebellious scientists ate quietly. He could hear the muffled sounds of them making conversation and that fact made his shoulders relax. “Be careful, Uriel. Talk like that could get me called, or worse – you.”

“It’s going to get me killed anyways,” Uriel growled. She shook her head and blonde hair fell over her shoulder. “You’ve killed me, Michael. I hope you’re happy.”

“Of course I’m not happy!” Michael exclaimed. The conversation quieted and Michael took a moment to eat in silence. He waited until that quiet hum returned and then he was back to whispering to Uriel. “Of course I’m not happy. I just don’t know what else is left to do. We can’t give him that weapon-“

“My life is on the line and you-“

“More than your life is on the line,” Michael cut her off. Her eyes widened. “You’re like a sister, Uriel, you always have been. We can’t give him the weapon because thousands – if not millions – of people will die. So no, I haven’t been working on the weapon. I won’t do it. Not for money, not for power, not for your life, and certainly not for mine.”

“You’re a selfish bastard,” Uriel spat.

Michael gave her a dark look. “I’m not the one prioritizing my life above others.”

Uriel’s eyes glistened with unshed tears. She preemptively wiped her face. “What are you going to do? Wait him out until he kills us both? Then what? Gabriel will find someone else, someone who he can convince to build the weapon. And we’ll be dead anyway.”

“No, I’ve been working on a different weapon,” Michael said. Uriel’s eyes widened in surprise. “A bomb.”

“A bomb?” she asked.

Michael nodded. “One strong enough that if we blow it up, the whole building goes. No more guards, no more weapon….no more Gabriel.”

“No more us,” Uriel added.

“Casualties of war,” Michael admitted.

Uriel scowled. “Oh yes, Michael, you and your rebels are so much better than Gabriel.”

“Are the two of you done? You’ve got work to do,” Furiad said. “Tick tock.”

Michael twisted around just long enough to pierce the man with a heated stare. “Soon.”

“Tick tock,” Furiad repeated.

Michael pushed his tray away. “Help me, Uriel. Don’t let your life be in vain.’

She dropped her head in her hands, beautiful blonde hair hiding her face. He thought he heard her sniffle as if she were fighting back tears. She looked up and her eyes were rimmed with red. “Fine.”

“Fine?” Michael asked.

“Fine,” she barked at him. “You work on the bomb, I’ll work on the trigger. When Gabriel comes, we go down in a hail of fire.”

Michael’s smile was grim. “Thank you, Uriel.”

“Don’t thank me,” she replied icily. “Not for this.”

Michael felt beads of sweat form on his neck as his eyes watched the clock on the wall carefully. His heart beat in time to the countdown as the last seconds of his life faded away. He looked over to Uriel and pride welled up inside of him. He knew how much she hated this, how much she disagreed with his methods. Nonetheless, she’d been bent over the table hard at work for the past hours. Even when exhaustion had dragged Michael to one of the cots in the corner of the room, Uriel had worked tirelessly. Resignation, maybe, but enough spite in her yet to go out and burn the world down around her as she did. Yes, Michael was proud of her. He brushed fingers over the trigger she’d just given him seconds before.

Gabriel didn’t slam the doors open this time. When he entered the room, it lacked the dramatic flair that usually accompanied Gabriel’s entrances. He’d not been lying earlier, clearly the time for games was over. “Michael…Uriel…”

“Doctor,” Michael replied coolly.

“Is that how it’s going to be?” Gabriel asked. The corners of his mouth twitched up. “So be it. Uriel, is it finished?”

“Almost,” she said.

Michael looked between them. Behind him, the bomb glowed a pale blue. “But it won’t be finished, Gabriel. Not now. Now ever.”

Gabriel grinned. “Uriel warned me that you wouldn’t finish it, not even for her life. I think she was disappointed in you. I think she put more meaning in your relationship. Siblings, it seems, doesn’t mean as much to you as it does her.”

Michael felt a twist of something dark in his gut. “Uriel….”

Michael reached behind him and found the trigger. His thumb reached for the button, pressing down hard. Seconds ticked by and nothing happened. He pressed down again, and then again.

Gabriel laughed. “Your bomb doesn’t work, Michael. Uriel doesn’t want to go out in an explosion. She sabotaged your attempt!”

Michael looked at Uriel. She was looking anywhere but back at him. “Uriel…how could you?”

A tear rolled down her cheek. “I’m sorry, Michael. I couldn’t….I couldn’t….I’m not ready to die, Michael. You won’t take me down for your stupid rebellion.”

Gabriel pulled his gun. “How long until it’s finished?”

Uriel wiped a hand over her face, drying the tears. “If he works on it? An hour, tops.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Gabriel asked.

“He’s a leader in his field for a reason,” Uriel replied. “I can’t do it. I don’t know of any scientists who can.”

“That’s too bad,” Gabriel said. A guard came up behind Michael, wrapping his arm around Michael’s neck and pulling him tight against his body. Gabriel approached him and, try as he might, all of Michael’s twisting got him nowhere. “What’s it going to take, Michael? Or…my apologies, what’s it going to take, Doctor?”

Michael elbowed his guard in the chest and got far enough to make Gabriel take a step back before the guard grabbed him again. “I’ll never finish it. You better just give up now and kill me.”

Gabriel raised his gun and pressed it flush up against Michael’s forehead. “Is that what you want, Michael? Do you have some kind of death wish?”

Michael glared daggers. “I’ll see you in hell, Gabriel.”

“You wish,” Gabriel said. He holstered the gun and looked at the guard holding Michael. “Torture him. He has an important lesson to learn about pain.”

It made Michael think of before, when he and Gabriel would read classics together. Of pain you could wish only one thing, that it should stop.

Michael’s heart panged in his chest. “Stop.”

“Oh?” Gabriel asked.

“Stop,” Michael said with a sigh. “I’ll finish it.”

“Has it really been this simple the whole time?” Gabriel asked. “You paint yourself as a man above it all. Strange that you should have a fear so common as pain. In the face of pain, there are no heroes.”

So Gabriel was thinking of those same times, Michael thought. He wrenched himself from the grip of the guard and stalked over to the table with the weapon. The guard stayed close to his back. Michael’s fingers squeezed the edge of the table. “Gabriel…”

“Michael?” Gabriel asked.

He turned, hands around the grip of the gun in the guard’s holster, and fired three shots at Gabriel. He stumbled back and the guards rushed forward, eager to make sure their leader was okay. Michael grabbed the technology off the table and ran for the door. Furiad stepped into his way and Michael hauled back and punched him in the face. He pushed past the door and ran out into the hallway.

A ray of violet exploded next to Michael’s face.

**DOMINION**

“And then I appeared in your shower,” Michael said.

Alex, during the midst of the story, had kicked his dangling leg up onto the couch and sat before the other man with his legs crossed beneath him. Michael, too, had taken to sitting cross legged on the couch and they shared a moment of silence, staring at each other and taking the events of Michael’s story in. Alex took a moment to remember the way Michael had been out of breath in the shower. Of course, considering that he’d been on the run. “Wow.”

“Yes,” Michael said dryly. “Wow.”

“I just….wow,” Alex said again. He shook his head. “I’m sorry. It’s just a lot to take in.”

“I realize that it must sound quite crazy to another person but I assure you, it’s all the truth,” Michael said.

“It’s a rather incredibly story,” Alex agreed. “So, how do you get back?”

“Back?” Michael asked.

“To the future. How are you going to get back?” Alex asked. When Michael said nothing, he continued. “Don’t you want to go home?”

“Of course,” Michael said quietly. “But I can’t go back. I didn’t take any of the technology with me and even if I had, the people who control it are the people who I’m trying to keep this away from. I’m here for good, Alex, and that’s why I need your help.”

“I don’t know how much good I’m going to be,” Alex admitted.

“You know this time and you can help me start out. If you’re willing, I mean,” Michael said.

“I’ll do what I can,” Alex said. “It’s crazy. I’m probably crazy too. But I’ll help you.”

“Thank you,” Michael said.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Alex replied, standing and walking into the kitchen.

Michael was reminded of Uriel. “Don’t thank me. Not for this.”

****  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter Three will go up on Nov. 30th, 2014. Don't forget to comment below!


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